This blog is dedicated to my Maxie. Max was only 9 and a half months when he stopped breathing at daycare. We are devastated by the loss of our most beloved baby boy. Hopefully, this blog will give readers a sense of what a beautiful spirit he was and will help to keep his memory alive.

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Acceptance

Tuesday, March 5, 2013

I was on the phone with one of my cousins yesterday and she asked me what makes things easier now....since I have mentioned that life is easier now than it was right after losing Max. Sometimes I forget that unless you have experienced this kind of pain, you don't really know what I am talking about. Since so many grievers really long to be understood, I am going to try and explain.

When Max first died - it was sudden and unexpected. I fed him some bananas and greek yogurt for breakfast, carried him into daycare, kissed him on his sweet face and fully expected to pick him up that evening for bath time and more kisses. I NEVER expected to get a call saying that he'd stopped breathing and that he was in the emergency room. I NEVER expected my brand new baby, who I was falling more madly in love with each day, to die for no reason. It took me a long time to accept that this even happened. Even today, I barely believe it did. I love Max with all of my heart. I always will.

When it first happened, I was cushioned by shock. It is your body's natural response to deep emotional pain and trauma. Shock softens the blow. Shock was the reason that I was able to act like a friendly hostess at my son's funeral and shiva. It is the reason that so many people were misled into thinking that I was fine and would be ok. I felt out of my body for weeks, until I woke up one day and realized that he was actually gone and that I would never see my most beloved boy again. Then the horror set in. It was like living in my worst nightmare. I couldn't bare to breathe. People kept interacting with me like I was still the hostess from the shock period. It made me hate the shocked me who had misled them. Their expectations of where I "should be" were completely crazy. I wanted to die. Life was way too painful....it often still is.

The horror and pain got worse and worse, every day for about 6 months. I couldn't focus on anything other than Max being dead. There was nothing sweet or angelic about his "passing", as people tried to imply. It was complete horror. To think otherwise is to be kidding yourself. People said really stupid things to me (they still do) and I still debate every day whether or not to share them in this space because they would simply make your jaw drop. I have never shared the very worst stuff here because it is just too horrible. Because people don't understand how terrible grief is, they aren't sensitive....and for some reason, they are unapologetic about it. In fact, they are mean and defensive about the terrible things they say....because "they meant well". Sometimes they really didn't. On top of being so deeply sad about losing Max, I was angry about how cruel people can be (it still boggles my brain).

As time goes on, your view of the world changes. Accepting a new reality makes living in that reality easier, because for the first few months or years, you spend a lot of time fighting the new world view. You are hoping that somehow everything will go back to how it was. It won't. The biggest part of that is realizing that your loved one isn't coming back. The smallest part is realizing that people you once really liked are actually pretty shallow. You start to accept all of this and life becomes easier. The acceptance doesn't make your grief go away. It doesn't make the loss any easier. It just saves you the energy of fighting what is. When I say that life is easier - I should be clear - it is nowhere near easy. I am not the person I was. I never will be. Never. I still spend all of moments of the days of my life longing for Max. I imagine I always will. But I am adjusting to the pain....learning to live with it. Somehow that makes it easier.

7 comments:

" You are hoping that somehow everything will go back to how it was. It won't." That describes me. In shock and thinking that if I can figure out the missing piece of this puzzle, that life will return to the way it was. Thanks for your explanation.

Sometimes it still describes me too. I find myself trying to figure out how to fix everything - because I've always believed that there is no problem too big to fix. In this case - there is no fixing. Once you realize it, that weight is lifted. You can't rush it, it happens in its own time. And, even though THAT weight is lifted - the larger, heavier weight is still there. I'm sorry.

We believe in a resurrection where we will see our love ones again. But it doesn't make it easier. The waiting seems like it will be eternal. I know its easier because im learning to accept to live with this pain. however i do find myself more angry now starting the second year. Angry at the unfairness that my beautiful baby is not here growing up with his siblings and so much more. I'm still so angry at the stupid people that makes insensitive comments and quite honestly I can see them the same way I used to. Abby writing for me it's so hard. You have truly make this path easier for me and help me articulate this pain in coherent words. Thanks. And you have definitely kep Maxie's spirit alive.

It is still shit. The missing is still crap. The pain can be so raw. And I routinely want to attack some idiot with a rusty meat hook, but I think you do start to live accommodating the lost, and having really low expectations of other people. Even that is shit though :(